


Steve Rogers is a Star-Spangled Jerk

by bactaqueen



Category: Captain America (Comics)
Genre: M/M, bitching about their older boyfriends, handjobs, race to the finish, underage teen killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3875932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bactaqueen/pseuds/bactaqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve and Jim turn them down, Bucky and Toro find a little solace in each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve Rogers is a Star-Spangled Jerk

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. No profit is earned and no infringement is intended.

Bucky ripped his mask off as he flung open the tent flap. He wasn't a kid. When was Steve going to get that? He knew what he was doing. He wasn't _confused_. He wasn't acting out, or acting up, or angling for something he couldn't possibly understand. He knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was acting like a star-spangled jerk.

"He thinks he knows everything," he muttered.

"But he doesn't," Toro agreed.

Bucky blinked as the flap fell shut. Toro was sitting up on his cot, comic book open on his lap, but he wasn't reading. He was just glaring at it. Bucky felt a twinge of sympathy.

"Jim?"

"He doesn't know anything, either," Toro grumbled. "They think that just because they're older--"

"They forget who does the real work," Bucky said. He went to his own cot and sat down so heavily the frame creaked. At least they had cots in this camp. He peeled off his gloves and leaned over to untie his boots. "We're old enough to fight a war, but we're not old enough to--"

"Tell me about it." Toro dropped his comic book on the end of his cot and swung his legs off the side. He scowled. "And their stupid excuses! _'It's not right, Toro. I'm responsible for you.'_ "

Bucky snorted. "You think they get together and talk about what they'll say to us? Steve uses the same line."

"If they were so _responsible_ ," Toro said darkly, "do you think we'd be out here? You know what fellas our age are doing back home?"

"They're not doing Uncle Sam's dirty work in tights, that's for damn sure." Bucky kicked off his boots and sighed. He gripped the edges of his cot and sat hunched there in silence for a few long moments.

He'd needed Steve. He needed something. Not to talk about it, nope, because he couldn't see how that would make it any better. But something. Some reminder that--

"Was it bad?" Toro asked quietly.

Bucky shrugged. "Always is, isn't it? They don't know we're coming, that's all that matters." He sighed and scooted back so he could stretch out on his cot. He'd missed chow and didn't feel particularly inclined to go scrounge up some C rations.

Toro got up and moved across the small tent. "Shove over."

Bucky shot him a look, then shifted on the narrow cot until there was just enough room. Toro stretched out beside him.

"We're not even four years apart," Bucky mumbled, as Toro slid a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him close. He tucked a thigh between Toro's and went on, "He acts like he's a million years old."

"Instead of just a hundred and seventy," Toro said.

Bucky laughed. He pushed his face against Toro's neck. "What's Jim's excuse?"

"He's an unfeeling inhuman machine."

That made Bucky snort. He ran a hand down Toro's side and rested it on the small of his back, the tips of his fingers teasing into the dip of his spine.

"You think they know about us?"

"I think we got about twenty minutes before Steve gets Jim and comes looking for us." Bucky nudged Toro's cheek with his own and huffed a laugh. "We should let 'em catch us. See what they're missing."

"Jim would approve." Toro slid a hand between them and rubbed at the front of Bucky's shorts. "Loser does the laundry?"

Bucky shoved a hand down the front of Toro's shorts, grinning. "You're on." He wrapped a sweaty hand around Toro's dick and stroked.

It wasn't what he wanted--but it would do. Toro's mouth against his and Toro's hand on his dick. Bucky locked their legs together and bit at Toro's lip the way he liked, rolled his hips and thrust into Toro's fist while he twisted his own wrist on each upstroke.

He liked the way Toro tried to stifle his groans and never managed. Bucky covered his mouth with his own a few times just to swallow the ones that got too loud.

Bucky broke their kiss to press his face to Toro's shoulder, and he felt Toro's teeth in his own uniform. They were both close--and it was a test of willpower to hold out the longest. Toro's laundry was easier, but Bucky did _not_ want to clean his own shorts after this.

It was Steve that sent him over the edge. Thinking of Steve like this, with one arm around him and the other hand on his dick, Steve's breath in his ear and Steve's cock in his hand.

He even heard Steve's voice saying his name, and that was the final straw. He spilled hot over Toro's hand and felt Toro's sigh of relief as much as he heard it before Toro came over his fist.

"Damn it," he muttered.

Toro chuckled at him. "I win."

"Yeah, yeah." Bucky slipped his hand out of Toro's shorts. He thought he could sleep now. "Tomorrow." Tonight, he wanted to forget--

"Buck? You in there? Can I come in?"

Damn it. He hadn't imagined Steve's voice saying his name. He flushed. "Go away," he called.

There was shuffling beyond the tent flap. "I think we should talk, Bucky."

Bucky pulled a face and mocked him, flapping his jaw and wobbling his head.

Toro laughed. He tried to muffle it with Bucky's shoulder, but he wasn't successful.

Bucky grinned. "Gimme a minute," he called to Steve. "I'm not _decent_." He sighed. "Old man won't let me sleep anytime soon, might as well give me your stuff," he said to Toro.

"You should make him help you."

Bucky scoffed. "The star-spangled jerk doesn't do laundry. He has people for that."

Toro laughed. He rolled off the cot and peeled off his shorts.

Steve coughed from outside the tent. "I can hear you."

Bucky threw a rude gesture at the tent flap and sat up. He buckled his belt and shoved his feet back into his boots, and he ducked the bag of laundry Toro threw at his head.

"Soap's in the bag," Toro said. He yawned and crawled under the blanket on his cot. "Be quiet when you get back."

"Yeah, yeah. Good night, pal." Bucky hefted the bag and pushed through the flap, into the cool night.

Steve was standing in the moonlight, shield on his back and his arms crossed over his chest. Bucky glared at him.

"I lost because of you," he said. "So if you wanna talk, come do it by the river 'cause I gotta wash Toro's clothes."

Steve frowned. He looked at Bucky's mussed hair and rumpled clothes and the wet spot on his shoulder where Toro had rested his mouth, and he said, "Buck..."

Bucky stood and he waited. And waited. Steve didn't say anything else.

He sighed. "Yeah. At least I'm being irresponsible with someone my own age, right?"

Steve's mouth firmed. "Do you really think I'm a star-spangled jerk?"


End file.
